A Thanksgiving Parable

“Hi, grandma!” you exclaim as you enter the warm kitchen on a cool November afternoon. You can smell the turkey and gravy, the mashed potatoes, the vegetable dishes, the hot rolls, the cranberry sauce, and of course, the pumpkin pie. “What a heavenly aroma!” says Aunt Deb, as Uncle Joe sneaks a bite of turkey. Everyone is in a good mood. How could they not be, especially with all this delicious food and an abundance of past blessings?

As you walk into the dining room, grandmother’s beautiful old dining table catches your eye. It’s a simple, yet elegant wooden dining table with matching chairs. There are two antique candlesticks on the table, as well as a beautiful vase and some flowers. As you move to take your usual place at the dining table, grandma interrupts. “Oh no, dear. We’re not sitting there this year.” “Why not, grandma?” you ask. “Dining room tables are too formal, dear. Too old fashioned. That’s why I bought these nice folding tables.” You glance across the room to a set of cheap folding tables and chairs. “You see, junior, dining room tables are elitist. The kids never got to see what was going on at the big table. Now everyone can actively participate in the dinner conversation.”

You take your seat at the folding table. You’re still thankful for the opportunity to be with friends and family as you say grace and eat your meal. But something’s not right. You glance back at the venerable dining set, then look at its replacement. “What is this world coming to?” you quietly ask.

It’s summertime in Scranton

It’s summertime in Scranton, and with the warm weather comes bazaars. I can already smell the pierogies, hamburgers and halushki. These festivals are quite popular fundraising and social events here in Northeastern Pennsylvania. But in some parts of the Diocese, with the summer bazaar comes the bizarre liturgy known as the “Polka Mass.” Usually this means a spoken Mass with four to five “hymns” played by a polka band. Often, these songs have little to do with the actual liturgical texts for the day. So why does this strange custom persist?

Father Edward MacNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum Pontifical Athenaeum in Rome, had this to say in a 2004 article on “Polka Masses:”

I was rather surprised to hear that Polka Masses were still going on — I had thought that they had gone out in the ’70s along with a host of other similar fads.

Perhaps the principal difficulty with such things is not so much the music in itself, which like many human elements in the liturgy may have different meanings in different cultures and in different epochs, but the idea that the Mass needs some sort of a theme in order to enhance its significance or relevance.

When we label the Mass we tend to diminish rather than augment its importance. We restrict its universal meaning as Christ’s very sacrifice renewed upon the altar and the sacred banquet which forms and increases our union as part of Christ’s Mystical Body, the Church.

This is the Church’s greatest offering to God and any addition to the Mass itself — such as “Polka,” “Clown,” “Disco” (yes, there have been cases) or any similar extraneous element — reduces its scope and attempts to press it into service for some cause other than the worship of God.

Perhaps you followed the coverage of the local Latino Catholics moving to a new, larger church. According to one article, a mariachi band was situated in the sanctuary as part of the welcoming Mass. “Polka Masses” are no more a part of genuine Polish liturgical tradition than “Mariachi Masses” are part of the Hispanic tradition. Unfortunately, in this day and age where “diversity” is king, such liturgical abuses continue. Both Poles and Latinos have a lot to offer the Church in Scranton, such as a deep devotion to Blessed Virgin Mary. We need to celebrate our noble heritage and traditions. But let’s leave the failed liturgical experiments in the past.

What’s in a name?

The restructuring of the Diocese of Scranton has been quickly moving forward, with a number of churches already closed and many more to close in the weeks and months ahead. As parish after parish is suppressed, new consolidated parishes are being created. One of the primary tasks of the teams responsible for implementing the changes in parish structures is to propose several names for the new parish from which Bishop Martino will ultimately decide. While I haven’t seen all of these lists, I’ve noticed an interesting trend among those I have seen. The proposals seem generic at best. And they represent a departure from the traditional nomenclature for parish churches in this diocese. Don’t expect to see a new parish under the patronage of the Sacred Heart (many parishes barely even noticed this solemnity earlier this month – even though most churches have a statue or even an altar under this title). Don’t expect to see many parishes named after a saint, either, perhaps with the exception of St. Katherine Drexel. No, in the profoundly renewed Diocese of Scranton, we will see parishes with names like “Divine Mercy,” “Resurrection,” “All Saints,” “Holy Family,” and “Happy Family.” Just kidding about the last one, by the way.

While there is nothing wrong with naming a church after a mystery of the faith or a title of Christ, it seems to me that the new names represent yet another unnecessary break with the past. With so many changes looming in the Diocese, is it too much to ask for traditional Catholic names for these new parishes? When a parish is given a generic title such as “Precious Savior,” the parishioners will miss out on developing a devotion to a particular saint, or to a specific title for Christ or Mary. The parish will miss out on celebrating its patronal feast, a solemn day in honor of its namesake and intercessor in heaven.

Perhaps even more disturbing is the prospect of disastrous “renovations” at these new parishes, undoubtedly fueled by lingering misconceptions about church art and architecture in the contemporary church. It’s hard to find a parish in the Diocese of Scranton that was spared from the destructive renovation projects of the 1970’s and 80’s. High altars were destroyed and a “presidential chair” planted in their place. A waterfall and baptismal pool often took the place of side altars. Statues and devotional shrines were removed, except for a token statue of St. Mary and St. Joseph. Of course, none of these steps were called for by the Second Vatican Council, whose constitutions and documents never even required that “people’s altars” be constructed or that Mass must be said facing the people.

What does this have to do with our current situation in the Diocese of Scranton? The creation of new, consolidated parishes will undoubtedly bring about another round of renovations. Such projects can alter a church positively or negatively. According to an implementation report from one local community, their parish church will undergo extensive renovations in the near future that will provide “…the contemporary environment necessary for modern worship.” Perhaps I’m reading too much into this, but that statement is quite unsettling. What environmental changes are necessary for “modern worship” as opposed to worship according to Catholic liturgical tradition? If parishes want to truly update their sanctuaries, they will need to ensure that they can facilitate both the ordinary and extraordinary forms of the Mass. Furthermore, historic high altars should under no circumstances be removed, nor should statues or devotional shrines. Wherever renovations happen, they need to be done tastefully and in accord with Catholic tradition.

A Few Practical Tips

Here are a few practical tips for priests, musicians, sacristans, etc. to improve the quality of parish liturgies.

1. First and foremost, “Say the black, do the red.” This is the most fundamental rule, but it still is widely ignored. The temptation to alter the language is a real problem in vernacular liturgies. Priests, don’t begin Mass with “Good morning.” Don’t paraphrase the dialogues. Is asking for faithfulness to the Missal being too strict or legalistic? I don’t think so. Mass in the Catholic church should be truly catholic, that is conforming to the rubrics and discipline of the universal church.

2. When lighting the altar candles, never use a plastic lighter. Every sacristy should have a candlelighter and tapers. This may sound like a triviality, but remember that everything in the church, and especially in the sanctuary, takes on a special role in the church’s worship. Using a proper candlelighter adds dignity to even the simple act of lighting altar candles. I’ve even seen churches coordinate the lighting and extinguishing of candles with two altar servers on either side of the altar.

3. Reevaluate the use of microphones at Mass. In this day and age we have become too accustomed to over-amplified voices. Unfortunately, this mindset has carried over into churches and now the “liturgical microphone” is perceived as a necessity for every parish. However, many churches are acoustically designed to carry the human voice without amplification. Priests, lectors and the choir may need to practice projecting their voices without microphones, but it can be done. Where microphones are necessary (i.e. churches with too much carpeting, tiles on the ceiling, etc.), they should be used tastefully and sparingly.

4. An amplified solo voice should never soar above the choir or congregation. Cantors or psalmists may use a microphone if absolutely necessary only when chanting verses of a psalm or singing an incipit. Once again, many churches are acoustically designed to carry the singing of the choir and cantor. Don’t use a microphone when its not needed.

5. Reevaluate the use of electric lighting in church. This goes hand in hand with microphones. Edison’s lightbulb was a brilliant invention, but have we gone overboard in our use of artificial lighting? Churches do not need to be awash with bright electric light. Use a lighting scheme that tastefully provides just enough light in the right places.

6. If the church has a high altar, use it! Churches lucky enough to have retained their original altar should use it for its intended purpose. High altars are not glorified flower holders. If removal of the “frontal altar” proves too controversial, at least use the high altar for special occasions. The rubrics of both the ordinary and extraordinary form allow for Mass to be celebrated ad orientem.

7. Learn to sing the core repertoire of the Roman rite. In 1974, Pope Paul VI issued a collection of simple Gregorian chants entitled “Jubilate Deo.” The Pope intended “to make it easier for Christians to achieve unity and spiritual harmony with their brothers and with the living tradition of the past. Hence it is that those who are trying to improve the quality of congregational singing cannot refuse Gregorian chant the place which is due to it.” It will take time and patience to teach the choir and congregation this music, but it can be done.

8. If you sing hymns, sing all the verses. Of course, hymns are not the normative music of the Mass. But they are a licit option at introit, offertory, and communion, and many churches have maintained a gracious custom of singing a hymn at the recession. Hymns are prayers. If you choose to sing hymns at Mass, complete the prayer by singing all the verses whenever possible.

9. Sing the dialogues. In the ordinary form, the dialogues between the priest and the people (i.e. the sign of the Cross, the dialogue before the Gospel, etc.) should be sung above all else, followed by the ordinary then the proper.

“We are managing on our own.”

Last year, Archbishop Malcolm Ranjith, secretary for the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments addressed a conference on “The Parish and the New Evangelization” in Rome. From Catholic News:

Archbishop Ranjith answered questions from the conference participants after his address.

A priest from the Netherlands, who presented his country as “the most secularized country in the world,” asked for encouragement “because we are so marginalized — we try to find any kind of means, like the media, to show our presence.”

Archbishop Ranjith answered, “It is good to use all the means available and to think that sometimes ‘dreams can become reality’” but “the most important thing is to feel strong and trust in God … and to pray.”

He gave the example of his diocese in Sri Lanka, which has a large non-Christian population. Catholic laypeople go and visit the Muslim or Hindu families, he explained, and “they have tea together and discuss about religion.”

“The sad thing would be to give up,” the archbishop affirmed. “Be strong, be courageous, you will succeed.”

A priest from Belgium asked if closing parishes reflected a lack of faith. Archbishop Ranjith offered the example of a spiritual partnership between a Sri Lankan diocese and a German one. When a German priest died, Sri Lanka offered: “I will send you the best priest I have.”

The German diocese considered the proposal but eventually decided to close the parish. This “‘we are managing on our own’ means closing churches,” Archbishop Ranjith lamented.

Unfortunately, this attitude pervades many Western dioceses, including Scranton. Remember Futurechurch?

As for the priests? The days when a priest actually belonged to a parish are long gone, and the bishops know it. They don’t really want more priests – too much hassle. (If they did, they’d be on the phone to India, Nigeria and Poland and have two dozen priests on their doorstep by next Monday.)

Called to Holiness and Mission, with its call to close nearly a hundred churches is Scranton’s way of saying, “We are managing on our own.” Instead, we need to restore our Catholic culture. We need to import priests from countries overflowing with vocations to work in our new mission land. We need to stop discouraging priests and priestly vocations.

We’ve only just begun…

Pessimism abounds in the Diocese of Scranton these days, both from clergy and the laity, and with good reason. The current policies of the diocesan leadership will close an unbelievable amount of our churches, turning away all but a faithful remnant of lay Catholics. I have argued many times that this approach is not acceptable.

Some are ready to give up the fight. It’s not worth the effort, they say. But Northeastern Pennsylvania is such an amazing place. We have a fascinating history, a rich cultural legacy, and beautiful geographic features. There is a future here. We’ve only just begun. We can rebuild what we have lost. We can breathe new life into our time-honored structures. But we have to act now before it’s too late, and the diocese’s planned renewal is not the way to do it.

Creating a strong Catholic culture is one of the principal ways toward true renewal or restoration of our diocese. Liturgy, music, and devotional practices are all facets of Catholic culture. A distinctive element of the Polish Catholic tradition is the Lenten service of Lamentations called Gorzie Zale, or “bitter sorrows.” This service begins with a pobudka, or wake-up call, bidding church-goers to prepare themselves to mediate on the sorrows of the suffering Christ. A meditation is given and Gorzkie Zale przybywajcie is sung, followed by a hymn, a series of lamentations, a sorrowful discourse between the soul and the Blessed Mother, and concluding with a threefold repetition of Ktorys za nas cierpal rany, or “By thy wounds and sacred passion, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.” This same pattern is repeated two more times with different hymns and lamentations throughout Lent. Benediction is usually given and a Polish Lenten hymn is customarily sung at the end of the service.

Gorzkie Zale will be sung this Sunday, March 8 at St. Mary, Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church in Mocanaqua beginning at 2:00 PM. This is the first such service at the church in many years. Readers who know of other churches offering Gorzkie Zale during Lent are encouraged to leave a comment with more information. The revival of beautiful customs such as the Polish Gorzkie Zale are positive steps toward true renewal. I strongly encourage you to support – or initiate – such efforts at your parish.

Unless a grain of wheat

In the Gospel of John, we find the following passage: “Amen, Amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit” (John 12:24). St. Augustine, in his tractate on John’s Gospel, offers the following commentary on the passage:

But the height of His glorification had to be preceded by the depth of His passion. Accordingly, He went on to add, Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abides alone; but if it die, it brings forth much fruit. But He spoke of Himself. He Himself was the grain that had to die, and be multiplied; to suffer death through the unbelief of the Jews, and to be multiplied in the faith of many nations.

This week, the Diocese of Scranton released the latest edition of the Catholic Light as well as another pastoral letter from Bishop Martino which restates the following points:

Change, especially when it involves loss, can cause much stress and profound pain. This is precisely the “dying” Our Lord is referring to in speaking about the grain of wheat falling to the ground and dying. Saint Paul is talking about the same dying in addressing the Romans. Believing the word of God as expressed by Jesus and Saint Paul will keep before our minds that in Christ our dying leads to life. Truly, I do appreciate the hurt we experience when one familiar, beloved parish church is replaced by another. Let us, however, put our faith to work. It will empower us during these times of change and loss to keep our focus on growth, strength and new life.

Attempts to create a spirituality of church closing are doomed to fail simply because the unnecessary shuttering of parishes is not a spiritual task. As we read in St. Augustine’s tractate, Christ’s statement about the grain of wheat is self-referential. It is not an allusion to profound parish renewal.

Seven Founders of the Order of Servites

Tomorrow the church keeps the memorial of the Seven Founders of the Order of Servites, a mendicant religious order founded in medieval Italy. A note in the Ordo informs us that the Servites first popularized devotion to Our Lady of Sorrows.

From the website of the US Province of the Servites:

Before the Servites ever existed as an official religious Order, seven prosperous men came together in the city of Florence, Italy. As a reflection of the penitential spirit of the times, it had been the custom of these men to meet regularly as members of a religious society established in honor of Mary, the Mother of God. Eventually, the seven left their comfortable homes, put aside their finery and went to live together in a ramshackle building outside the city walls. The holiness and penitential lifestyle of the seven quickly attracted attention and people seeking prayers and spiritual direction became frequent visitors. To avoid these distractions that they considered a hindrance to the contemplative life they sought, the entire group moved to more peaceful surroundings, and established a hermitage on the summit of a nearby mountain, Monte Senario, sometimes known as the “sounding mountain.”

Coming to be known as the “Friar Servants of Mary,” others joined the first seven on Monte Senario, and as the group continued to grow, the seeds of the new religious Order took root. The Friar Servants of Mary were approved as a religious Order by the bishop of Florence sometime between the years 1240 and 1247. In the year 1304, the Order of Friar Servants of Mary received definitive approval as a religious Order in the Church by the Holy See.

Perhaps you have already viewed it, but here is some spectacular film footage of Easter Sunday High Mass from Our Lady of Sorrows Basilica in Chicago as celebrated by priests of the Order of Servites there in 1941.

The video includes some excellent commentary on the Mass by the late Archbishop Fulton Sheen. After explaining the use of the cope during the asperges, Bishop Sheen noted, “It is a long established principle of the Church never to completely drop from her public worship any object, ceremony, or prayer that once occupied a place in that worship.” Something to think about.

Seven Holy Founders of the Order of Servites, pray for us.

Since we’re talking about cassocks…

As a member of the Catholics for Clerics in Cassocks facebook group, I must commend the Rockin’ Traddy’s recent post encouraging priests of the Scranton Diocese to wear their cassocks. Because, as he put it, “It is absolutely 100,000,000,000 times cooler to wear a cassock than that suity thing you guys are wearing.”

At my parish, there have been several different cassock variations for altar boys over the years. In the early years of the mission, black cassock and surplice were used. During the 1960’s and 1970’s, altar boys wore white cassocks with a red shoulder cape and cincture. Then the black cassocks made a reappearance, and now we’re using albs. As you can see from even this single example, there are a number of accepted variations. The Mass of the Ages had an interesting post on this a few weeks ago.

But cassocks are not limited to priests and altar boys. In many parishes and cathedrals with serious music programs, the choristers, organist, and cantors also wear them. I think, for example, of the choristers at the famed Westminster Cathedral or the schola at St. John Cantius in Chicago. While in most situations these individuals are not clerics, this mode of dress highlights the importance of sacred music in the liturgy and reminds the musicians of their privileged role and responsibility. Unfortunately, the recent document on sacred music from the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops discourages the use of cassock for musicians, a position which I find to be in opposition to established custom and tradition. As an organist and choirmaster, I wear a cassock and surplice from time to time and can say from experience that it adds much dignity to the office.

The cassock is one of those external elements of Catholic culture that I speak of often here at the Catholic Watchdog. The restoration of such elements – and the faith and culture they signify – are necessary for the true renewal of our diocese.

The Lord doth guard the faithful

This evening, at every anticipated Sunday Mass in the Diocese of Scranton, priests were instructed to play a prerecorded message from Bishop Martino. The bishop stressed that this method of communication was chosen out of respect for the people. But respect – for our churches, history, parishioners, and faith – was hard to find in the forthcoming decisions.

The announcements came after the postcommunion collect. The Church prescribes a verse from Psalm 31 as the communion chant today: Make your face to shine upon your servant, and in your loving kindness save me; Lord, let me not be ashamed for having called upon you. This evening at Mass, after chanting the communion proper, the choir sang a metrical version of thirty-first psalm. Here is the first verse:

Let me not be ashamed, O Lord, for on thee have I called:
Let wicked men be shamed, let them be silent in the grave.
To silence put the lying lips, that grievous things do say,
And hard reports, in pride and scorn, on righteous men do lay.

The elimination of dozens of churches is a grievous wrong, especially when it is done in the name of spiritual renewal. I have stressed time and time again that renewal does not come from closing churches and schools. Renewal does not come from inattentiveness to rubrics of the liturgy. Renewal does not come from questionable ecclesial movements and campaigns.

Renewal isn’t even the right word. Why not restore our diocese? Why not restore a strong sense of Catholic culture? Why don’t we restore to the Liturgy the reverence it is due? But this isn’t a discussion about semantics. The situation we face is far too serious.

The decision announced this evening for my cluster orders the consolidation of four parishes into one. At least temporarily, three church buildings will remain; two will close permanently by July 2011. To further add to the absurdity of the plan, the two outlying parishes are separated by more than sixteen miles (at least a half-hour drive by car in good weather), with many parishioners scattered apart even further. All four parishes were financially sound and maintained sizable congregations.

Conversation, input, and discussion: were these ever a real consideration? How can Bishop Martino justify these decisions? The consolidation of these four parishes puts the liturgical, education and evangelization efforts of these churches in jeopardy. Multiply this effect for every other church that will be closed across the diocese.

My home parish is located in a rural area, a single beacon of Catholicism in the midst of several large evangelical churches. Closing this church would be disastrous; it would nullify all of the progress made in youth ministry and sacred music. But even under this consolidation plan, the identity and effectiveness of my parish will suffer.

Is there anything that can be done? First and foremost, pray. Pray to St. Jude, patron saint of causes without hope. Pray that Bishop Martino will reconsider these decisions before great damage is done to our diocese. Second, don’t lose faith and don’t lose hope.

Here is the last verse of the metrical psalm we sang tonight:

O love the Lord, all ye his saints; because the Lord doth guard
The faithful, and he plenteously proud doers doth reward.
Be of good courage, and he strength unto your heart shall send,
All ye whose hope and confidence doth on the Lord depend.

St. Jude, pray for us.
St. Joseph, pray for us.
St. Martha, pray for us.